


3am

by xxenjoy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Universe Alterations, after season 9, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:44:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1263364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gates of Hell have finally been shut, and now that the winged dicks are out of their hair as well, Dean finally works up the courage to ask Cas out. Things don't go as well as he'd hoped.</p>
<p>Set after s.9</p>
            </blockquote>





	3am

**Author's Note:**

> I was up till 2am with this last night, and I had to go through and fix a LOT.   
> There will probably be more to follow, but I'm not saying when for sure because I really don't know u_u

Dean stood dumbfounded in the middle of the kitchen while Sam munched away carelessly on a piece of toast. Cas was looking back and forth between them, seeking reassurance that he sure as hell wasn't getting from Dean. The hunter opened and closed his mouth over and over again, brows entwining as he managed to mutter

"What about April? And Nora?"

"I don't know," he admitted, not meeting Dean's gaze, "it seemed like a good idea at the time, I guess."

"It seemed like a good idea to get yourself killed?"

"Dean!" Sam warned, "you wanna not be a dick for five minutes?"

"I'm just saying."

"Yeah, well just don't." Sam looked apologetically at Cas, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorry. I think it's great, Cas. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, Sam," he smiled, sipping his coffee.

"Anyone want bacon?" Dean mumbled, returning to the stove.

-

Sam pulled him aside as they all left the kitchen together, dragging him back into the room by his collar.

"What the hell, Sam?"

"No, Dean, what the hell is wrong with you?"

He rolled his eyes, "what?"

"What? That's all you have to say? What the hell was that?"

"What am I supposed to say?"

"Oh, I don't know, good for you? I'm happy for you?"

"He knows," Dean muttered offhandedly, brushing past his brother before being pulled back again.

"Right. I'm sure he does, but you could be a little more supportive, Dean. You're his _best friend_."

"I don't know what to say, okay? To you or him. It's weird."

"It's _weird_? Are you kidding me? You're the one who's had a giant crush on him since like, day one."

"Shut up, Sammy."

"Really mature, Dean." Sam left in a huff and Dean returned to his room, pulled his headphones roughly over his head and flopped backward onto his bed. He exhaled deeply and shut his eyes, shutting out anything but the music playing far too loudly in his ears. 

-

They didn't talk about it again for at least a week. Dean didn't talk to anyone about anything unless it was case-related, and when they weren't working he hid himself away in his room. 

He finally managed to pull himself together one night after a rough hunt. He had spent an hour consoling a woman who had lost her husband via a werewolf and was panicking that she was going to spend the rest of her life alone. That had definitely got him thinking - and worrying - and now he was standing like an idiot outside Cas' room, fumbling like a thirteen year old. 

It took all the courage he had to eventually reach out and knock on the door.

"Cas?" he asked, pausing to steady his voice, "you in there?"

"Yeah. Come in."

He turned the knob and took a deep breath before pushing it open and crossing into the room. Pushing the door shut behind him, Dean walked over to the bed, sitting down on the very corner, as far away from Cas as he could. The ex-angel was lying stretched out on the far side of the bed and he pulled up a half-smile when Dean forced himself to look over. 

"Cas I wanted to apologize for the other day. I was a dick and-"

"There's no need to apologize, Dean. I understand."

"No, you don't. Look," he took another deep breath and looked down at his intertwined fingers, "I was thinking maybe sometime, you and I could grab a drink... or something."

"Are you asking me on a date?"

"I dunno, maybe?" his courage was quickly slipping away and he wanted to run away. 

"Dean," Cas sighed. 

He didn't look over at him, he swallowed around the lump in his throat and stared intently at his hands. 

"Right, I get it."

"I just- we're better as friends, Dean."

"No, it's cool. I just- yeah, cool," his eyes flicked up to Cas for a split second before he rose and left the room. 

It took everything in him not to slam his bedroom door, and he didn't even bother kicking his boots off before he collapsed face first onto his bed. So that was it. In the past six years everything had been in his head. Either that or Cas was just going to flat out deny it all. 

He didn't get out of bed for three days.

-  
-

It was difficult, trying to avoid someone you lived with, but Dean was better than most at avoiding situations he didn't want to be part of. The getting up early wasn't great, but after a month he got used to it, and it was better than eating breakfast with Sam and Cas every morning. He had managed to almost completely avoid Cas since what he had started referring to as 'the incident', except for a few times he had passed him in the halls and carefully diverted his gaze. 

Sam, needless to say, was pissed off about the whole situation. He kept insisting that Dean try and _talk_ to Cas, and when he explained that there wasn't anything to talk about, Sam would insist that if Dean would tell him what happened, he could help. 

Everything came to a head when he woke up one morning by rolling out of bed and hitting his head on the nightstand. He pulled himself up, swearing loudly and flailing around for something to press against the wound. All he managed to do was knock a calendar from the wall, and he stopped when he turned to scowl at it. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, but he did neither. His hand fell from his head to his knee and he pushed himself up from the floor, pulling the pillowcase from his pillow and balling it up against his head. 

September 18th. He squinted through the pain, telling himself he read the date wrong. That was it, it was definitely not the eighteenth yet. Dean managed to stumble to the infirmary before the full realization hit him. He barely managed to clean up the cut before his mind started wandering and the threat of tears prickled at the back of his eyes. 

_Fuck_. He had fucked up so many things in his life and just when he thought it might be okay, one more thing comes and smacks him in the face. Obviously, he had been lying to himself for an entire month. He was not okay. 

Stumbling back to his room he pulled his phone out of his pocket, slumping against the end of the bed as he scrolled through his contacts list. After a few rings, a cheery voiced answered.

"Dean? What's the occasion?"

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Dude, what-"

"I'll explain later, I just," he looked to the ceiling, breathing deeply before he continued, "I can't be here today."

-

When he knocked on the door, Charlie greeted him with an encouraging smile that only made him feel worse. 

"You okay?" she asked, pulling the door shut as Dean dropped onto the couch. 

"Truthfully? Not at all."

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"You want coffee?" 

"Sure."

Charlie grinned again as she set off to the kitchen. Dean sighed, but he couldn't help but feel a little relieved. That was one of the things he loved about Charlie, she didn't press when you said no. It almost made him want to tell he everything, and by the time she returned with two oversized mugs of coffee, he shuffled over to one side of the couch, making room for her to sit down.

"Cas said no."

"What?"

"He uh, he came out about a month ago now. I didn't handle it well, I don't know what the hell was going through my mind at the time, but... anyway. I asked him out."

"What, woah."

"Yeah, I know. He said no."

Charlie looked down into her coffee, "wow, I did not see that one coming."

"Me neither, but uh, there's not much I can do about it now. I've managed to avoid him alright since then but..." he inhaled through his nose, "six years today."

"What is?"

"Six years ago today he dragged my sorry ass out of hell and changed everything I knew," he blinked and turned away from her, "I know this is stupid, but I can't do this anymore. I can't live with him anymore, but I can't just kick him out. Even if I don't see him, the whole goddamn bunker smells like him," he faced Charlie again, "what the hell am I supposed to do? I've spent the past six years listening to people say things like 'he was your boyfriend first' and 'he _likes_ you' and I guess I just started t believe it! I mean, everyone else did! Fuck, even Sam- he said once that when angels and demons agree on something it's got to have some weight to it, well apparently not!"

"How long have you been holding on to that one?"

Dean sighed, dropping his shoulders, "about six years... I'm such a fucking idiot. He's an _angel_. Or he was."

"There's got to be more to it than just a flat out denial."

"Nope. Just 'we're better as friends'"

"Shit."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

-

After about an hour, Dean couldn't even think anymore. He was exhausted emotionally and physically, and it was barely past noon. Charlie suggested a Harry Potter marathon to take his mind off things, and he didn't even try and argue. 

They sat together and Charlie would pause the movie to get snacks or drinks, or blankets, and when Dean started to drift off, she pulled him down so he was lying with his head in her lap. She smiled down at him and he returned with a weak grin. 

"You wanna head to bed?"

"We're not even halfway through," he complained.

"First, we're more than halfway through. Second, it's past eleven and you can barely keep your eyes open."

"I'm fine."

"Dean, you have to sleep. Come on, I have a fold up couch in my computer room."

It took both of them to pull the bed out, and Dean was about to give up and sleep on the floor when it finally gave way. Charlie brought him pillows and blankets and insisted on making the bed up for him while he got ready for bed. 

It was ages before he finally fell asleep, only to be woken up a few minutes later by a phone ringing. 

"You gonna get that?" Charlie called from down the hall.

"Yeah, no."

"You might want to get this one, you kinda ran away from home earlier."

"Charlie-"

"Dean, pick up your phone." 

He crawled to the end of the bed, pulling his phone out of his jeans and answering it with a soft click.

"Where the fuck are you?"

Dean closed his eyes with a frown, steeling himself against the all too familiar voice, "it doesn't matter Cas."

"Don't tell me that. You've been gone all day, Sam and I had no idea where you were-"

"I'm fine."

"You hunt _monsters_ , Dean. How am I supposed to know you haven't been killed, or worse-"

"Expelled?" he 

"This isn't _funny_."

"Whatever, Cas, I'll be home in the morning."

"Where _are_ you?"

"I told you, it doesn't matter."

" _DEAN_ "

"I'm at Charlie's. I'll be home in the morning." He hung up and tossed his phone across the room before burying his face in the pillow. 

-

He was woken up yet again, by Charlie shoving his shoulder. Judging by the look on her face, she had been asleep too and something had woken her up rather unpleasantly. 

"Go downstairs."

"What the hell, Charlie? What time is it?"

"Late enough that I should still be asleep. Go downstairs, please. He won't listen to me."

"Who won't?"

"Dean, I think you two really need to talk. Cas is pissed. Which probably stems from being terrified that you're dead. You know, feelings or not, he cares about you, Dean."

"I don't want to see him."

"So help me, Dean Winchester, I will drag you down those stairs myself." 

After shoving her away, and literally getting pulled from underneath the blankets, Dean shuffled out of bed, glaring at Charlie as he made his way downstairs. 

Cas was standing in the doorway, leaving the door wide open so that the cold night air blew into the living room. If the cold bothered Cas, he didn't show it, wearing only a light sweatshirt over his t-shirt and jeans. Dean glanced at the clock on the table, 3:24 am. 

"What the hell, Cas?"

Cas' eyes were pleading when he looked up, "please come home."

Dean shook his head, "I told you I'd be home tomorrow."

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Why the hell do you think I left?" his voice rose of its own accord, and he completely forgot Charlie trying to get back to sleep upstairs.

"What?" Cas squinted at him.

"Do you know what it's like to be in love with your best friend for years and just when you think maybe, just maybe you finally have a chance, you get nothing but rejection?" 

"YES!"

"What?" all of Dean's defences dropped immediately and he stared at Cas.

"Yes, I know," he mumbled, before stepping into Dean's space and kissing him hard on the mouth. He pulled back a moment later, clenching his jaw.

"Cas- I literally asked you out and you-"

"I'm sorry, I thought, I don't know," he sighed, "I guess I thought you just felt bad about when I told you," he looked up again, "I didn't think you were serious."

"I was."

Silence fell heavy on them, and Dean could feel goose bumps prickle along his bare arms. They both stared down at the ground, unsure of what else to do until Cas broke the silence.

"Are you coming home?"

"Let me get my stuff," Dean's voice was barely a whisper when he replied, but Cas nodded slowly, still not looking at him.

With his bag repacked and a rushed note left on Charlie's keyboard, he shut the door behind him and followed Cas out to the car. He completely passed his own car, crossing to the Impala on the other side of the yard. Dean gave him the keys with little fuss and Cas nearly smiled as he slid into the driver's seat. The drive back was long and quiet. Neither of them knew what to say, and Dean was too tired to put the music on. 

Cas woke him up when they arrived and Dean blinked at the harsh lights of the garage. He left his things in the car and stumbled out of the garage with Cas. They separated in the hall and Dean turned the corner to his bedroom, opening the door to the mess he had made in the morning. Groaning too loudly, he climbed into bed. He could clear it up in the morning. 

An hour later he was wide awake and couldn't stop his brain from running over the past few hours. Eventually he climbed back out of bed and crept slowly down the hall, pushing Cas' door open just enough to peek in.

"Cas?" he whispered

"Hmm?"

"I- sorry, I shouldn't-"

"I can't sleep either. Come lie down."

Dean lay down on the edge of the bed, slowly inching over until he was right next to Cas. His legs were pushed out of the way as Cas pulled the blanket up over both of them and curled around Dean. They lay in complete silence. It was calming, having Cas' warmth right there, but Dean still couldn't stop his mind.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You still awake?"

"Still can't sleep."

Gentle fingers brushed over his forehead and he winced, jerking his head back suddenly.

"Sorry," Cas whispered, "what happened?"

"I hit my head, it's nothing."

They fell silent again before Cas whispered, "Can I do something?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

Cas propped himself up on one arm, gently rolling Dean onto his back as he leaned down, pressing their lips together in a soft kiss. Dean rose up into it as one of his hands founds its way into Cas' hair. They moved together perfectly, the kiss growing more heated with each touch, every press of Cas' lips against his. 

He slid his hands beneath the hem of Cas' shirt, pulling it up and over his head before he realized what he was doing. Cas just grinned at him, sliding down to kiss the underside of his jaw. Dean found the dimples in his back, rubbing his thumbs against them as he breathed unsteadily, holding back the moan that threatened to escape every time Cas' lips brushed against his neck. 

Cas tugged his shirt off slowly, leaving around his neck for a long time while he kissed him refusing to pull away until they both needed to breathe. The shirt was shoved aside and Cas' arms slid underneath him, holding him as close as possible. They moved slowly, all soft kisses and lazy touches, unconcerned about the time.

Dean startled as Cas climbed over him, eyes flashing suddenly open as he trailed kisses down his chest, paying careful attention to his hips and the slight swell of his stomach. He lifted his hips gently and Cas grinned against him, pushing one hand up his side while the other slid beneath his hips. 

Their fingers entwined over Dean's chest and he sighed happily, tilting his head back against the pillow.

"I love you, Castiel."

He huffed a laugh, pressing his nose into the dip of Dean's hip, "I love you too, Dean Winchester." Cas sat up slowly, running his free hand around the side of Dean's hip, smiling down at him.

When they made love that night their lips barely separated, hands clasped together above Dean's head on the pillow. They rocked together, reaching orgasm slowly, and collapsing in a tangle of limbs as they both tried to catch their breath. Dean shuffled over, curling into Cas' side, ducking his head beneath Cas' arm as he wrapped it around Dean's shoulders.

"Sam's going to have a fit when you aren't in your room in the morning," Cas breathed. Dean leaned up to look at him, lying over his chest. 

"You kicking me out? _Now_?"

"No," Cas chuckled, bringing his head back down to kiss him again, "just warning you."

-

Sure enough, Dean woke to the sounds of panic out in the hall. He disentangled himself from Cas, pulling on the first shirt and pyjama pants he found and pulling the door open slowly. He cringed at the squeak that he hoped wouldn't wake Cas, and stepped out into the hall, pulling the door shut as quickly and quietly as possible. In the light he was pleased to find he had at least managed to grab his own pants, if not his own shirt. It was green and fairly bright, but there were no discerning patterns and it could easily be passed off as his if Sam didn't question it.

As usual, things didn't work out the way he hoped.

"Nice shirt," Sam raised an eyebrow, "Cas said you were coming home last night, where the hell have you been."

Dean shrugged, "I did come home. I've been here."

"Dude, you weren't in your room, I thought you might have left again-"

"I was in Cas' room. I'm fine, I'm not going anywhere."

"You were with Cas?"

He pinched the shirt and pulled it out as if to display it, "yeah. What time is it, by the way?"

"I dunno like, seven am?- I thought you and Cas-"

"Sam, I've had like, an hour of sleep. Tops. Can we maybe talk about this later?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just. I was worried." Sam brushed a hand through his hair, looking down at him. 

"I know, I'm sorry," Dean rubbed a hand over his face and looked up at Sam without lifting his head.

"So you and Cas are-" he gestured with his hands and Dean chuckled. He could feel the heat rise into his cheeks, but he ignored it. 

"We have a _lot_ to talk about, but yeah, I think so." 

Sam dropped his chin, laughing quietly, "I'd say I didn't see it coming, but..."

"Shut up, Sam," he mumbled through a barely concealed grin, "I'm going back to bed."

"So, just so I don't panic again, your bed, or...?"

" _Not_ my bed, bitch."

"Jerk."

-

Dean smiled to himself as he eased the door open, waiting for the squeak that didn't come. It clicked shut with a soft thud and Dean pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor as he crossed back to the bed. Cas was still asleep, one arm stretched out above his head and the other resting on his hip. Dean slid beneath the blanket carefully, settling on his side. He couldn't help but grin, brushing his fingertips along the line of Cas' jaw. 

"You told me it was creepy to watch people sleep," Cas mumbled.

"Yeah, well... ," he chuckled lightly, "I got nothin'"

Cas smiled as he wiggled closer, curling his arm around Dean's back, "it's okay, I don't mind."

Dean beamed at him, closing his eyes as he pressed a kiss into his hair, "Go to sleep, Cas."


End file.
